Per Te
by viva los angeles
Summary: Gio considers what Hilda already knew. GxB.


**A/N: Henry started creeping me out with his randomly buff bod, and after "Bananas For Betty" I decided that I like Gio better for Betty, because there's too much drama with Henry. We'll see how this fanfic turns out, since I haven't been paying much attention to Gio these past few weeks and haven't picked up much on characterization or word choice or personality or any of that. LOTS of artistic license here!**

**I know he's a sweetheart _now_ but I sort of picture him as a ladykiller in his past like Daniel… y'know?**

**My minimal knowledge of Italian comes from listening to Josh Groban… yay! Speaking of, that's where the title comes from. One of my favorite songs ever—"Mai," also.**

**This turned out a lot shorter than I wanted it to. I****'****m going to rewatch ****"Bananas For Betty" and try to write another, better fic. **

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_Per Te_

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Gio closes the door to the Suarez home behind him, his fingers lingering on the cold doorknob for a moment, just a second longer than he should have let them. He absorbs the familial bliss through the metal, tucking it in a part of himself kept so secret that he could hide within its walls. Hilda's words had sliced into him like a knife, a red-hot knife in Emeril's deft hand.

_She isn't the Suarez sister I want._

Even the ditzy brunette had seen through his façade, he thinks as he jumps from the top step to the ground in one movement. The shock of the landing shoots up his arches and through his legs just as the shock of his realization shoots up his spine and into his heart, sending it racing with speed to rival Jeff Gordon. Not that Gio knows anything about car racing; baseball just doesn't have the speed necessary to complete his mental metaphor (unless he is talking about Billy Wagner's left arm—that is a different story).

Gio merely ignores the arrhythmia—it is a normal reaction that usually follows seeing Betty somewhere in the Meade Publications building, whether at his sandwich shop or just in the building. His footsteps slap against the pavement, carrying him south down 60th Street, and his breath makes icy puffs in the air. With every step, her face pops up in his mind. The braces that reflect the light when she smiles sarcastically at him. The eyes she rolls so often in his presence. The smile that lights his world.

He feels mushy thinking that. Like the women he's dated before. Drinks, dancing, more drinks. Always near a subway station so that they could get back to his place without incident. It was always his place. Images of previous girlfriends flicker in his head as he turns southeast on Broadway. Tall, short, skinny, wide, brunette, blonde, redhead. No requirements made it that much easier. Anyone was a possibility, and he rarely spent any time without a woman at his side. Eventually, though, and unfortunately, they got too close and that is it. He cut it off and moved on. He never let his heart in on what his body is doing.

Not until he got fired from the last job did anything change. When he lost that income he was forced to move home and join Mom and Dad and Antonella in the loft on 41st Avenue. No woman wants to take a man home to her own apartment, and of course he couldn't take them back to the loft with his little sister and parents there. Besides, girls like a guy with money, not a guy who lives with Mommy.

Heart versus body. That is the conflict that he's refused to deal with for so long. He thought that if he enjoyed it, it was right. Therein lies the problem. Seeing his parents every day made him watch their relationship and want that for himself. Something long-lasting and committed, not temporary and fleeting.

Gio wants Betty. For the first time in his entire life, it isn't the other way around. Her eye-rolling, sarcasm, and general standoffishness only make his feelings more fervent. And when he sees her with Egg Salad, oh! Gio's heart clenches just thinking about it.

The scene plays itself out in Gio's head. At that moment, they are probably snuggled up on a couch in Egg Salad's apartment watching some lame sci-fi movie, and she probably has her head on his shoulder and he has his arms around her. Gio frowns into the Queens darkness, snorting in disdain.

The moon is already high in the sky, joining the streetlamps in casting a Giovanni Rossi-shaped shadow on the sidewalk upon which he plods. Stars are nowhere in sight—too much to hope for in the New York heavens, crowded with smog and skyscrapers—but he knows they are up there, as he puffs out another steamy breath. Somewhere out there, there is a shooting star; he knows that too. The old Gio would never have done so, but the new Gio looks up at the sky and wishes upon whatever star is falling. He wishes for Betty.

If everything went even remotely as he wished, Gio would not be out right now walking with this chill in his heart. His heart would be warm and his face flushed with the joy of a new relationship. Instead, he turns south onto 69th Street with heavy shoes and a heavier heart.

In his mind another scene begins, with himself as Betty's co-star. They are back at the dance club, and he is finding out that she is a very good salsa dancer. She has had a few drinks but is not drunk, and this is essential so he can make sure everything is real and not an alcohol-induced misjudgment. After a bit of dancing and eating and not much more drinking, they hop onto the 7 line and take it to the 61st Street-Woodside Station. The ride is quiet, and they sit next to each other on the sparsely populated train. He watches her, she meets his gaze, he looks away and blushes, she smiles. The pattern repeats itself the whole trip. When the train stops, they walk up the stairs to the sidewalk. He reaches shyly for her hand and she gives it to him. Neither says anything until they reach her door, at which point she hugs him and he lingers for a second, his face near hers, until he senses she's given him permission and he goes in for the kiss. They both smile and wave as he turns to depart into the darkness.

Finally he comes upon his final turn. As he turns west on 41st Avenue, he wonders if Betty knows that he lives only a short walk from her house. Or if Hilda will tell Betty how the date ended. Or if Betty will ever understand that when he was outlining what he would do with the woman he loved, he meant her.

He knows that Monday everything will be back to normal. Betty will come to the cart and buy her sandwich, they will bicker playfully about how many sun-dried tomatoes to put on it, and he will give in eventually. She will walk away with lunch and be none the wiser, but he will remain alone, left with only a wish destined never to be realized.


End file.
